Mirrors Don't Tell Lies
by GraceTheNerdyGirl
Summary: Dean and Castiel share a similar problem. They cannot see their own reflections in a mirror. This is caused by them both having a certain... vampiric condition. *This is as fluffy as they come. Some nice, high school/monster AU with K plus for one minor swear and sweet boy kissing. I have to write something happy now because I know that after the season premier, I won't be able to.


_Inspired by a Tumblr post about a vampire describing another vampire and vice versa while intoxicated since they cannot see themselves in a mirror. I thought this was such a cute idea that I had to Destiel it up. This was written in about __forty-five minutes, so don't expect perfection. Just some cute fluff from off the top of my head. Also, there is a song reference. It is so obvious that it is not even funny, but I just had to put it in there. I hope you enjoy! (It gets better as it goes, I swear.)_

_PS- This might be expanded upon in the near future... :)_

* * *

Dean Winchester looked across the school courtyard as his best friend, Castiel Novak, made his way toward him. The dark-haired boy was gazing at the ground with an immense amount of focus. His skin was pale, and his eyes sunken in. He looked practically skeletal, almost dead. Dean instantly knew what was wrong.

"Hey, Cas," Dean started. The other boy looked up at him as he neared, and his deep blues eyes burrowed their way into the Winchester. "Do you need some of mine? What happened?"

"Gabriel thought it would be funny to steal my thermos out of my backpack this morning. I almost killed a girl in my algebra class who had a nose bleed."

Castiel accepted the beat up flask that Dean offered him, taking a huge swig and wiping his mouth before handing it back. His skin instantly tanned again, and his face did not appear nearly so emaciated as before. Dean glanced around to make sure no one noticed the sudden difference. Nobody was paying them any mind.

"Thank you, Dean. I was not certain I could make it home. If some poor soul fell and scraped their knee or some such occurrence, well..."

"You're welcome, no sweat. I always have plenty, you know that. No need to wait until after school. You can find me anytime."

"I just do not wish to be a bother."

"Cas, you are so far from that it isn't even funny. I'm just glad that you are here. This year has been so much better."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, before you came, I was the only one besides my family that I knew had the... condition."

"Oh, I see. I am glad that I know you as well. I was worried that I would not find someone to confide in as well."

"Look at us, six months later."

Dean smiled at Castiel, one of his brilliant smiles that Cas always felt were just for him. It was not one of those smug smirks he gave teachers, or that sly grin that drove girls up the wall. It was just big and white and genuinely happy.

Castiel had moved to Lawrence, Kansas, at the start of the school year. There had been an... incident with his brother Lucifer in his old hometown, and the entire family had to move. He had been worried that he would have to bear the condition alone, but then he had sensed Dean that first day. They had been instant best friends, inseparable. Dean was popular, so the friendship he formed with the new weird kid was viewed as strange, but it did not hinder him. It also gave Castiel enough respect to not be bullied directly, which he counted as a blessing. There was also the matter of the relief of being able to be your complete self around somebody.

"You coming over to my house to study?"

"I would love to, Dean."

"Great."

Another one of those blinding smiles and then Dean was off, Castiel following behind. His biege overcoat flapped in the cold wind. The walk to the Winchester home was short and filled with comfortable silence. Dean led the way up the porch steps and through the front door. Cas had been to the house so many times over the past few months that he knew it as well as his own. He walked in and was greeted by the scent of baking.

"Hello, Castiel!" Mary Wincehster called from the kitchen. She peeked around the corner to wave, and Castiel saw that she had on an old plaid shirt as an apron and flour all over her front. "I am making some pecan pie, so when you hear the oven you can come down and grab a slice! Don't let Dean hoard it to himself," she teased. Dean gave her a peck on the cheek and started up the stairs to his bedroom. Cas followed after giving Mary a courteous nod.

"Why does your mother insist on baking so much?"

"We've been over this, Cas. It's just a habit. She wasn't born with the condition like us. Besides, I actually like the taste of human food. Especially pie."

Castiel smiled at that. Dean certainly did like his pie. Dean noticed the smile on his friend's face and tried to ignore the light feeling it gave his stomach. Cas' smile was small, barely there. You had to know what to look for. It was all in the eyes.

"Hey, man, I have something I have been saving to share with you. Want to see?"

"Sure, Dean."

Dean dropped his backpack and began to rummage under his bed as Castiel put his down as well, far more carefully. He finally found the small cooler he kept and pulled it just far enough forward that he could get the contents out. He hid the object behind his back as he turned to Cas. With a flourish, he revealed the plastic bag to his friend.

"Dean, what is that?"

"Type O, man. Pure. It was a gift from my Uncle Bobby when he visited this past weekend."

"You want to share with me?"

"Yeah, Cas."

Dean gave another smile. Cas smiled back, the widest Dean had ever seen. Dean took that as acceptance and moved to sit on his bed. Castiel followed suit. Carefully, Dean broke the tab on the bag and leaned in the get the first sip. He coughed a little, then drank deeper. The rare blood type whirled straight to his head, giving him a zingy high. He slowly passed the bag to Cas, using his index finger and thumb to block the tube. The Novak took his own pull and passed it back. They continued like this until the bag was empty, much the same way teenagers elsewhere would be passing around a cigarette or a joint until it could not be used any longer.

Castiel was practically giddy from the rush so much good blood was causing him. He fell backwards onto his back with his legs dangling over the edge of Dean's bed, and Dean fell into the same position by his side. The Winchester looked over at his best friend, the way the sun came in through the window and caught in those eyes.

"Your eyes are amazing, you know," Dean said aloud, to his horror. The rush was making it impossible for him to control his words.

"What?" was all Cas could reply.

"They are. So blue. Like the night sky right before the sun starts to come up."

"Dean..."

"Sorry."

"No, no, I am fine. I just... I did not know my eyes are blue."

"Wait, what?"

"Mirrors don't exactly prove to be of much use to those with our condition."

"But someone must have told you at some point? Your family? A girl who liked you? Some other random person?"

"No one. My family is not necessarily concerned with appearances, and I have never really been that close to anyone other than you. I always assumed they were brown because Gabriel's are."

"Wow. So do you really have no idea what you look like?"

"Well, I have some semblance from what I have been able to discern by feel."

"I could tell you."

"What?"

"I could describe you. I could be like your personal talking mirror that can actually see you."

Castiel considered Dean's face for a moment, trying to decide if the Winchester was being completely serious. He was. Cas wanted to know what Dean saw when he looked at him, of course, but that curiosity did nothing to stop the butterflies quickly mutating into rampaging sea urchins in his gut.

"I want to describe you as well. To be... Your mirror."

Dean was slightly taken aback. He guessed he should have seen this coming, but he blamed his frazzled brain.

"Fine. You first, though," Dean said. He needed Cas to go first because he clearly did not have the self control at the moment to not embarrass himself completely.

"Okay... Your eyes are the greenest I have ever seen. They seem to shine in certain lights. Your smile is big and wide and very white. Your teeth are straight. You already have laugh lines around your eyes, and stress creases on your forehead. You always have stubble, no matter how often you say you shave. Your lips are constantly pink and a little chapped. And the freckles. There are so many that I cannot even begin to count them, even though I have tried," the last part slipped out of Castiel's mouth unwarranted. He blushed furiously as Dean just smiled and replied with his own description.

"I love it when you blush. You turn red from your cheeks all the way to your ears and down your neck. You don't have many freckles, but a few. Your eyes are so blue, man. And they seem to stare right into people, right into me, you know. They are so icy man, but you have these lines around them that make them look so kind. Like an angel. Yeah. Like an angel. But not like one of those soft sissy angels that have the halos and harps. Like one of the angels you see holding a fiery sword. I could picture you being an angel with a shotgun or something. And don't even get me started on the constant sex hair and your lips. Your lips are so damn, so... kissable. I guess they are just so kissable that I-"

And then Castiel was there, in Dean's space, leaning in. Dean met the other boy half way. The kiss was soft, chaste, and a little awkward since they were both on their sides scrunching forward, but it was perfect, too. Dean was suddenly very glad that he had not been able to control what came out of his mouth.

"Is that really what you see when you look at me, Dean?"

"Mirrors don't tell lies, Cas."

Castiel dove back in for a kiss that was anything but chaste. They stayed embraced like that for only a small amount of time to them, but it was actually a long while. The chime on the oven downstairs started to sound before Mary shut it off. It broke the tension long enough for the boys to bring themselves back from the haze. Cas gazed directly into Dean's eyes.

"I love you, Dean."

"Cas? Really? Like are you-"

"And mirrors don't tell lies."

And maybe, just maybe, as Dean kissed Castiel again in reply, the mirror attached to Dean's dresser shimmered with the afterthought of an image. Maybe, just maybe, something more than just love had passed between the two boys, something ancient and new and powerful enough to conquer any obstacle, even a condition such as theirs. And maybe, just maybe, if the mirror really did show something so utterly amazing, utterly extraordinary, utterly supernatural, well, you can be certain of the miracles to come. Because, like the old saying goes, mirrors tell no lies.


End file.
